Harmony
by Mini Peacelet
Summary: Connie reprimanding Rita is too much for the aspiring nurse to handle after the day she's had. So when Rita is bought into the ED as a patient, Zoe enlightens Connie that it is all her fault. Will Connie apologise and admit she was out of line? Will the pair grow closer? Can Rita help Connie with Grace's behaviour that is spiralling out of control?
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: **Hi everyone, I finally have an idea for an on-going Casualty fic. It'll be based around Rita/Connie (although this chapter probably wouldn't suggest that). I hope you like the first part, please leave a review if you'd like to read more. :)_

_~Mini Peacelet~_

* * *

Part 1

Drowning; she was plummeting cavernously, submerging in her crushing emotions. Anger. Rage. Misery. Riddled with pure negativity. Indulged in unsalvageable self pity, guilt and regret, loathing herself and her reckless actions more than ever imaginable. In an entire day, her defence barriers and positivity had crumbled into millions of tiny fragments, minute enough to be classified as dust. Dust that was currently irreparable. Deceit always resurfaced; hauntingly. She comprehended that. Her behaviour had simply been obtuse.

"Another drunk patient," Tamzin exhaled an exasperated sigh as herself and Jeff approached the blonde woman who was positioned in a slumped heap on the moist, concrete ground subsequently to presumably tripping. A cheap bottle of vodka, which contents were effectively non-existent, was abandoned carelessly on the surface, tossed when the female had tumbled with the remaining liquid dripping onto the floor.

The NHS were always exhausting their time and resources on intoxicated members of the public, and these were some of the shouts that the paramedics hated the greatest. Liquored humans were often aggressive and proved to be the most complex patients as they refused to cooperate.

Jeff descended to the ground, initial instincts to check for a pulse commencing, "But this isn't any drunk patient," As he captured a proper glimpse of the tipsy female's features, "It's Rita." He clarified forlornly, "Her pulse is faint but quicker than regular."

Rita's day had been complicated and strenuous. She was shattered. Her emotions had left her drained, fragile and defenceless. Connie reprimanding her had polished everything off, and once free, she had hastily scuttled off, departing the hospital and rushing to the local off-liscence. Purchasing an inexpensive bottle of foul spirits, she treaded in the park and perched on the concrete steps of the pavilion. Fingers trembling, she had fumbled with the lid until successfully removing it, then gulping mouthfuls of the transparent liquid down. Primarily, the substance had burned her throat pugnaciously during the journey from her mouth to her stomach. But she didn't care marginally. Swiftly becoming accustomed to the fiery sensation, she allowed the alcohol to grasp influence; concealing all her prevailing troubles and potent emotions. She drank and drank until she was numb. The numbness solved everything.

The blonde's entire body shuddered; a combination of the wispy yet chilly breeze, and the immense quantity of vodka she had ingested. She didn't notice though, appearing immune to the frostiness. Faltering, she reclaimed her equilibrium and stumbled with every stride; balancing in heels was tricky enough when sober, she was conclusively drunk. Her vision was a blurred haze, she was disorientated. She staggered in various directions, covering little territory, until she toppled over her own feet.

* * *

Jeff and Tamzin entered the emergency department, wheeling the medical trolley that the blonde was strapped to alongside them. Greeted by Zoe and Tess, who were on standby for incoming emergencies delivered by the paramedics. His expression sorrowful, Jeff informed the ex clinical lead and head nurse of who their next patient was, "It's Rita," He announced in a desolate voice; a low, muted murmur laced with melancholy concern, "As you know, she's thirty-one...we found her unconscious in the park, rather intoxicated. She's got lacerations to her head...possible fracture to her left wrist..." He continued to reel off a list of precautions they had taken, observations and medication they had granted.

Zoe and Tess exchanged corresponding looks - slurred with hushed rage - both knowing that Connie's scolding lecture had been one thing too far for the aspiring nurse to handle. They followed their colleagues into recess, Zoe paced straight to the phone to arrange X-rays and a CT scan.

The detail that Rita hadn't regained consciousness yet worried Zoe. Although evidently drunk, the cut on the right-hand side didn't appear to be alarmingly deep; with a few stitches it would heal. Tess administrated precise amounts of specific drugs, and when Rita had returned from the emergency CT scan and everything appeared to be normal, a sigh of relief floating from her glossed lips as the nurse's body began to twitch and fidget faintly - an indication that she was returning to reality.

"Rita, it's me, Tess. Do you know where you are?" Tess's manner was soothing, her fingers clasped delicately around the younger woman's hand, observing as Rita's cornflower-blue orbs were exposed momentarily as she eyelids, smudged with black mascara, fluttered open and snapped closed as the strident light contacted with her pupils.

"Get off." Rita muttered, hinted with a defensive growl as she tugged her hand free from Tess's, vibrant eyes gradually adjusting to the dazzling light - a contrast from her velvety black mind - yet remaining squinted. Oblivious to her location, sight still fuzzy, she mustered the most strength she had showed since the beginning of her turmoil day, pulling herself to the sitting position. Her movements had been fast - too quick - resulting in her attention being turned to her pounding head, that was now spinning harshly. Dizzy. For two minutes, everything whirled in brisk circles, rapidly gaining speedy until her vision steadied and her ability to see was reclaimed.

She had been ignorant to the voice she identified to be Tess's speaking, instructing her to lie back down and remain calm. Disregarding the head nurses's words - she wasn't entirely sure why or what Tess was doing there - she tossed her legs over the side of the bed, snatching the IV drip that was inserted in the back of her hand, resistant to the sharp pain that was caused, "Oh, get off you stupid thing," she hissed merrily, fumbling with the velcro straps on the restriction the ambulance crew had placed on her wrist for support.

"Rita, you should really stay." Tess advised as she tried to restrain the damage that Rita was inflicting, but because of the aggression the alcohol stimulated, she had no choice but to back off. Feisty. The blonde hadn't been so spirited since her husband had been admitted that morning, the feebleness had been traded for hostile behaviour.

"No," Rita bitterly objected, "I'm going, and no one can stop me." She shouted, her words couldn't be taken seriously due to how garbled they were. Staggering off the bed, followed by two stumbled steps, she disposed of the heels that were preventing her from walking.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: **Thank you for reading and reviewing. Here's the next part, I hope you like it. I'll just let you know in advance that I'm a rubbish updater, but I'll update as regularly as possible. :-)_

_~Mini Peacelet~_

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Part 2

"It wasn't your place to reprimand her, Connie! That's Tess's job, and the only reason she hadn't dealt with her already was because herself and I both felt that she had enough to handle for one day." Zoe stated sincerely, tone laced with muted anger and frustration towards her boss who remained adamant that she was still in the right.

Connie's orbs were burning with bitter ice at the detail that someone who was now a lower rank than herself was questioning and arguing with her actions, narrowing her gaze, she glared at Zoe, "Somebody had to lecture her, she shouldn't have treated that patient if she knew him, and then removing a confidential part of his file and hiding it was totally unprofessional. Not to mention her lying to her colleagues. It can't go unnoticed." She slammed some of the admin folders that she had removed from a filing cabinet on her desk as rage simmered inside her and perching on the leather, swivel chair.

"I never said it could go unnoticed. But that was not the correct time to scold her, and it wasn't your place either. Tess would have sorted it at the beginning of Rita's next shift." Zoe clarified, exasperation increasing in her voice.

"Admonishments should be handed out there and then. They don't have the same effect if you leave it a day or two." The ex-heart surgeon retorted potently, flicking through a file to limit the attention she had to engage with Dr Hanna.

Exhaling a resentful sigh, Zoe refused to compel that the other brunette was correct, "You didn't even know the full story, Connie. You just assumed from what you'd seen. And no, I'm not making excuses for her, but sometimes there are exceptions." She raked her fingers through her sleek hair in vexation, "Your reprimanding was one thing too much for Rita after everything that had happened today. Do you still think that you're in the right even after Rita has now been admitted into this hospital with a possible fractured wrist and a head injury that could have been much severe? You're lucky that her injuries are considered as minor."

"It's not exactly my fault that she chose to go and get sloshed in the park is it?! She has to take responsibility for her behaviour, Zoe. Personal lives and work should be kept separate." Connie's response was slurred with fury; cynical. She was rapidly becoming more provoked by Zoe's continuance. She regained her equilibrium in covet that the towering height advantage would add to her authority.

"Just listen to yourself, Connie. Why don't you try putting yourself in her shoes for once? Sometimes, it's not always possible for personal lives to be kept out of work. How would you feel if you were her? Rita's husband was a teacher, but he violated that trust when he had a relationship with a student - that's why he's in prison. Rita's been filing for a divorce, but he's not cooperating." She had raised her voice substantially, riled at the younger woman's attitude, she enlightened Connie into the personal information that had haunted the blonde nurse earlier in the day, then pivoted and stormed out of their joint office, biting indignantly on her tongue to prevent her saying something she would later regret.

Connie sighed forlornly, dropping the brown folder on the wooden desk. Guilt riddled inside her at the thought of being the reason that Rita had chosen to get drunk, which had then advanced to her having a trivial accident. Perhaps she had been a little zealous and harsh when she had shouted at Freeman. Although she would never admit to Zoe, she silently agreed that it hadn't been her place to lecture the blonde, especially considering the circumstances. It had simply been her initial reaction.

The brunette stepped out of the comfort of her office, poised, into the chaotic ED. The department was beginning to teem with members of the public who had suffered minor incidents, clustering in reception as they impatiently awaited treatment. People brushed by her as they rushed to their desired destinations, battling through gatherings of humans - a mixture of her staff and innocent strangers. The majority of the staff that had passed her had purposely knocked into her with some force, added with hostile glares. Evidently, although Rita currently wasn't popular with her colleagues, they didn't concur with their clinical lead either.

Noticing Connie was stood in the midst of the hectic ED, Cal halted beside her, failing to realise she was mutedly perceiving everything, "Can I help you with anything Miss Beauchamp?"

"No, but you can go get on with something constructive; work maybe?" She suggested, tone reinforcing that she was clearly not in the mood for any of his jokes or time wasting.

"I've had an idea for your economic drive, a way to save more money. Perhaps I could enlighten you, over a drink?"

"Save it for later, I'm busy." She replied shortly, momentarily engaging in eye contact with the doctor.

Piercing clicks reverberated the spacious Emergency Department as Connie paced hastily, with assertiveness, to Resus - which was unusually quiet - as that was where she had been instructed that Rita was being treated. As she entered, the blonde nurse was attempting to locate the door, but she blocked her access, "Not so fast."

Rita glanced up at her boss briefly, contours raging for several reasons, "What do you want?" She hissed, speech still rather slurred, "In fact, I don't want to know. Get out of my way and let me leave." Frigid. Her manner was sour and forbidding.

"No," That one word was cutting, laced with stern authority, "You will stay and accept treatment, and you will listen to what I have to say." She stated as she stepped in the corresponding direction as Rita as she attempted to dodge the brunette. "And you can sleep off some of the alcohol too."

"No, I'm going." Rita shouted, the most resistance she had displayed all day, her barriers of defence recomposing.

"Oh no you're not." Connie placed her hands, with a strong pressure, on the younger woman's shoulders and guided her back to the bed.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: **Thanks for reading and reviewing :) sorry for not updating in ages! Haven't been able to write for a while and struggled with the last part of this instalment. Hope you like it x_

_~Mini Peacelet~_

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Part 3

Rita had purposely rotated her head to the side opposite where Connie was standing, concealing her face into the flat pillow, and blocked everything out. She didn't desire to observe Connie's features, or the brutal words she'd figured the clinical lead would be articulating; how stupid and irresponsible it was to get so drunk, that her minor accident was her own fault, more about her behaviour that day at the ED. She wanted to perceive nothing except a numb silence.

Connie exhaled an exasperated sigh, becoming increasingly frustrated at the blonde's lack of cooperation. She had only been talking about medical related terms, and requesting permission to perform the required treatment. She definitely wasn't going to apologise here, not with several members of her staff listening. Connie Beauchamp never admitted she was in the wrong. "Fine Rita. Fine. You can go home."

Rita vaulted upright after registering that statement but groaned as she clutched her pounding head momentarily. She fumbled to put her suit jacket back on, although it was no decent barrier against the wispy wind and persistent rain hurtling over Holby, and it certainly provided no warmth.

"Connie, you can't discharge her, she needs an x-ray on that wrist and stitches in the lacerations to her head." Zoe argued hastily, disapproving of the unprofessionalism.

The tall brunette glanced at Zoe, penetrating an ominous, icy glare at the woman who dared - once again - to question her actions and principles, "Relax Zoe. I know what I'm doing." Her response was cutting and slurred with authority. She then diverted her attention back to the nurse who was currently putting her shoes back on the wrong feet. "And how exactly do you plan on getting home?"

Rita titled her head to look at Connie despite her still remaining a hazy image and shoved her hand into her pocket, then revealing her car keys, "The same way I got to work..."

"Oh no you are not," She instantly put halt to that intention, "You've been drinking and are far too intoxicated to drive without being at risk of causing an accident." She tactfully grabbed the keys from the blonde's grasp in which she protested, "I'll drive you home." She stated with poise and rotated round to face Zoe and Tess, "Make sure she stays here while I get my coat and bag, and get her shoes on the correct feet please." She instructed and paced off to her office.

* * *

"Where are we going?!" Rita demanded sharply, full of drunk curiosity, subsequently to failing to recognise numerous streets and roads that Connie was accelerating along. She lived in a one bedroom council flat. The houses and flats she could currently perceive in the shadowy street lights were of a higher class; privately owned.

"I'm taking you back to mine for the night. Don't even bother trying to argue, you have a head injury which means you should be under observation for at least twenty-four hours, and I need to stitch the trivial cut on your head." Connie clarified simply as she parked her Mercedes with precision in her drive.

The blonde grumbled quietly, "I'm perfectly fine and capable of looking after myself." She insisted.

"I don't doubt that you are but for once, Rita, please just do as you are told." Connie sighed as she emerged from her expensive vehicle, allowing the door to shut with a soft click, and helping the nurse out and into her lavish flat. "Go sit down," she directed in a subtle tone before going to pour a glass of water in hope to try and sober Rita enough for her to oblige to her administrating first aid to the small wound on her forehead.

"Drink this, it should ease your headache a little." She said as she passed Rita the glass and begin to gather the items she needed for the stitches. The perks of being clinical lead meant that she had an array medical items. The blonde's hands trembled as they clenched the tumbler, she'd ingested a few sips before disposing of the glass on the table. She didn't want water. Water didn't numb her emotional and physical pain. She craved alcohol.

Connie pulled on a pair of sterile, disposable gloves and perched next to Rita, "I'm going to stitch the cut on your head now." She wasn't seeking permission, just warning the blonde of what to expect in the coming minutes. And before the nurse had time to object, the brunette spoke, "This is going to sting." And started disinfecting the cut.

Rita could feel Connie's hot breath suffocating her cheek, a delicate minty scent. The brunette's concentration was intense as she put three dissolvable stitches in neatly. She was carefully studying her boss, tiny details she had never noticed before. Microscopic freckles beneath the foundation she had applied that morning, smudged eye make-up from her long and hectic day at the ED. Connie could corresponding feel the blonde's clammy breath on her neck, however it wasn't as pleasant, particles of cheap vodka creating a sour aroma.

The blonde's orbs locked briefly, gazing at Connie's rich, Bambi-like eyes, before she tentatively brushed her own tainted lips against the brunette's glossy ones. The older female gasped at the sudden contact, and affection, frozen helplessly. She was unable to speak even when Rita had pulled away. The aspiring nurse couldn't see any fault in her actions because of the alcohol. In a state of mellow shock, Connie wasn't sure how to react, but because Rita said nothing, she pulled off the disposable gloves and picked up a splint. Doctor mode. She always switched to that in tricky situations. Although her thoughts were going irrationally crazy. She had never been kissed by another woman, nor had she kissed one. It was something she had never considered with herself.

With her knowledge and experience, she was positive that Rita had only sprained her wrist. Nothing was broken or fractures. So she restrained the blonde's wrist with a basic splint that would prevent her doing anymore damage until she got her strength back fully.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: **Thank you for reading and reviewing. I hope you enjoy this instalment. :-)_

_~Mini Peacelet~_

* * *

Part 4

Rita roused with a start, subsequently to another tormenting nightmare taunting with her just like they had every night since she had stood in the court room where she had learnt and had no option but to accept the detail that her husband was the liar, not that innocent school girl she had blamed for ages. She was married to a sex offender, that would never sink in. Never. She coveted for that filthy man to be out of her life. Forever. But the divorce was anything but simple as he continued to refuse to cooperate.

Sealed in a thick duvet, she harshly wiped her eyes from where a couple of stray tears had leaked, tainted black as they combined with her mascara. Her head was throbbing; a mixture of a hangover and the knock to the head she had obtained last night. The blonde then buried her face into the fluffy, feather pillow, inhaling sharp breaths as she aimed to calm her erratic breathing. But as she breathed in, it abruptly dawned on her that she wasn't in her own bed. Her nose had captured a sweet scent that wasn't her own.

She bolted upright, momentarily forgetting about her pounding head, and diverted her orbs to her side when she felt someone shuffle next to her. Connie. Miss Beauchamp was laid beside her, on top of the covers. Rita gasped, turmoiling into a panic. She couldn't recall what had happened last night after she had kissed her boss, the alcohol had erased her memory.

Frantically, she untangled her limbs from the bedding and dashed to pull her tailored trousers and blouse over her lacy underwear; an attempt to salvage some dignity. Her hangover was the last thing on her mind at this moment in time. She needed to get out of there as quickly as possible.

Her hasty movements had disturbed Connie, resulting in her stirring from her slumber. It only took moments for the brunette to remember the current situation as she inclined so she was perched upright on the bed, brushing the few stray strands of hair from her face that had escaped the ponytail she had tied last night. "Rita," That one word broke the silent ambience and alerted the blonde that leaving wasn't going to be so easy now.

Rita pirouetted on her feet sharply, focusing her cornflower-blue eyes on the older female. She faltered over her words, stumbling to create a sentence, "I have to go. I'm sorry about last night, I shouldn't have kissed you. It meant nothing, I was just drunk and irresponsible. Forget it even happened. Thank you for everything." She rambled, trembles tainting her tone as she swiftly grabbed her jacket and slipped her dainty feet into her heels, rushing for the door.

Connie vaulted off the bed, "Rita, wait-" she sprinted across the wooden floor of her bedroom and finally managed to block the nurse's path in her living room, "Just listen to me, okay."

The blonde rolled her eyes, frustrated and apathetic, "I don't want to hear it." She snapped, her anger building at a rapid rate. Now that the influences of the alcohol had faded, all her problems had come crashing back with potency. She had no interest in listening to her boss articulate, coveting to be alone with just cheap booze for company. She attempted to dodge round Connie and hurry to the door but she had evidently anticipated her actions and obstructed her path again.

"I'm not going to have ago, I just, I just want to apologise. And talk. Let's go sit down." The brunette guided Rita towards the leather sofa, gesturing for her to sit down. She loathed admitting she was wrong, but she felt she didn't have any other choice. "I apologise for reprimanding you, it wasn't my place to do so. I didn't know the full story and I just assumed and in doing so made things worse. I still don't know the whole story, but I know some of it. I understand that you realise your behaviour was out of order. You are a valued member of staff, a nurse with great potential. It would be a shame to loose you. And as your boss, it is my duty to make sure that you are okay, if you ever need to talk my door is always open."

Rita scoffed, "Like you actually care. You're just saying that." Her response was cutting, perhaps too harsh. She didn't care though, "Can I go now?" She tapped her foot against the floor in exasperation, hands clenched in tight fists.

Connie exhaled a sigh hinted with aggravation as the nurse continued to be difficult, defensive barriers barricading real emotions and thoughts, "No, not yet. I just want you to know that I am here for you. Alcohol isn't the answer to your problems, it just masks them temporarily. You are strong enough to get through this, Rita. Don't let him win and throw everything you've worked so hard for away. Take a few days off to get your head around everything, I'll see you back at the ED on Friday, ahead of your weekend to work."

She nodded although the brunette wasn't convinced that she had genuinely been concentrating and listening properly, "Why do you actually care? You never have before." She hissed spitefully, "Why bring me here, to your home, last night? I don't understand. And why did I sleep in your bed?"

"Because I care." Connie stated sincerely, "You made it clear last night that you didn't want to stay in hospital over night, and as a nurse you know the procedure, anyone with a head injury must stay under observation over night, I couldn't let you go home alone. Nothing happened, except the kiss which we'll forget about, but you were too drunk to sleep on the sofa and I certainly wasn't going to." She explained. "I don't want to keep you here against your will. I'll see you at work on Friday, Rita."

"Bye, Connie." Rita leaped to her feet and scuttled out of the clinical lead's spacious apartment. Her lips were still tingling from that hot kiss but she refused to believe that it actually meant anything. Simply just an intoxicated error. She comprehended that the most sensible thing would be to go home right now. But sitting at home would mean pondering over everything. More emotional and mental pain. Pain she couldn't tolerate. So she walked to the off-licence on her way back to her council flat.

Connie padded into the kitchen, flicking the kettle and gathering everything that contributed to producing a strong coffee. She spooned a generous amount of coffee granules into a mug, followed by one sugar and impatiently waited for the kettle to boil. Her concerns for Rita remained high. She wished the blonde would trust her and open up but she understood why she wouldn't. Coffee in hand, she returned into the living room and perched on her plush couch and opened her laptop. Paperwork. An adequate distraction.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: **Thanks for reading and reviewing. Sorry for taking ages to update, I got stuck in the middle of this update. Hope you like it. x_

_~Mini Peacelet~_

* * *

Part 5

Friday. Connie was perched on her leather, swivel chair in her office, concealing herself in the mountain of paperwork that Zoe hadn't completed. Fountain pen propped between her thumb, middle and index finger, she attempted to concentrate on the inked words that occupied the crisp, white paper; processing the documents content before scribbling her signature and printing her name.

She couldn't locate the motivation required to focus though. The words were just a hazy and bleary fog that made no sense. Mingled with the grains of the paper, all she simply perceived was an image of granular grey. Dismal. The clinical lead's mind had no intentions of allowing her to decipher and assembled complex sentences, instead otherwise engaged. Rita. Her thoughts were limited to the blonde nurse; the woman who her concerns had soared for.

Dropping her pen to her desk with hints of exasperation, she regained her poise and paced with authority into the chaotic emergency department. Connie peered at her Gucci watch, establishing the time, then exhaled a sigh and approached Tess, "Still no sign of Rita?" She inquired despite being nearly certain of the answer.

Tess shook her head, "No. I've not heard from her either." She confirmed, manner hinted with frustration. Punctuality was an essential and Freeman was definitely testing her luck by still not appearing three hours late.

The brunette nodded, "Well, we'll have to assume that she isn't going to show today. We are short staffed as it is so you'd better try and arrange cover. I'll go see if I can get hold of her." She pirouetted in her stilettos and disappeared into her confined office, pushing the door shut with her foot. Silence regained, submerged from the active emergency department.

The ED was already under pressure and short staffed as it was without others adding to the significant problem. How could she generate and instal some order to the ludicrously unorganised department when members of staff failed to even show? She clasped her flawlessly manicured fingers around her mobile phone and flicked through the staff files until she located Rita's. Obtaining the nurse's telephone number, she swiftly typed the individual number combination into her phone and dialled.

'Welcome to o2 messaging service, we're sorry but the person you are trying to ring is currently unavailable, please leave a message after the tone.'

The former heart surgeon was repeatedly greeted with the same message as she tried to contact Rita. She had also called the landline but discovered that it had evidently been disconnected for whatever reason. It was so out of character for the blonde; she loved her job and was never late for her shifts, and from what Connie had overheard, she always answered her calls.

Mrs Beauchamp comprehended that her actions she was about to inaugurate were considered as absolutely unprofessional. She was going against her own conduct and rules, but she truly felt that the reason was acceptable. This was a mess she had partly influenced, evidently an apology wasn't going to fix things, so she had no other option. Depositing her phone into her handbag, she seized her handbag, coat and car keys into her clutch and paced to exit the hospital.

"Connie! Where are you going? It's the middle of a really busy shift." The brunette exhaled an exasperated sigh at Dr Hanna interfering yet again, "Out. I'm entitled to a lunch break, Zoe. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to meet Guy for lunch." Dishonesty wasn't a regular trait, nor a tactic she liked having to lower to but when needs must, she did.

Connie accelerated through the streets of Holby, breaking the speed limits - not that she really cared. She drove to the address Rita had given for her file, it was in a rather rough segment of the city that she attended to avoid. She parked with precision outside the block of flats and locked her car. She was fearful for the safety of her wheels but concluded Rita's welfare was more important. You couldn't purchase health.

With a comfortable gait, she strolled up the stairs searching for the designated flat number. The lift was broken, something not particularly rare in places like this and she hadn't expected it to be working, so wasn't disappointed when she had to climb flights of stairs. Reaching Rita's flat, she repeatedly tapped on the door loudly and awaited a response. Nothing.

She descended so her rich orbs were level with the letterbox, flicking it open with her fingers and peering in. Initially, her eyes perceived what appeared to be a weeks worth of post - majority of which was junk mail - they were then drawn to the vast quantity of empty wine and vodka bottles as well as beer cans that were scattered across the tattered carpet. She extended her gaze again, locating the sofa and the blonde who was sprawled out on top of it, covered with a blanket. Connie could only hazard a guess that Rita had drank until she passed out.

The brunette couldn't tell whether the nurse was sleeping off the effects of the alcohol or whether there was something more serious and underlying. Either way, she couldn't establish for certain until she gained entry. She allowed the letterbox to spring shut as she rose to her feet and clasped her clammy palms around the door handle. All she could do was hope that it was open. And luckily it did open.


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: **Again, thanks for reading and reviewing. I probably will put Rita and Connie together as a couple but I can't guarantee when as I still haven't fully decided where I'm going with this. Hope you like this instalment x_

_~Mini P__eacelet~_

* * *

Harmony - Part 6

The odour suffocated her immensely as she exposed the interior behind the front door; just pure particles of foul alcohol that had fused the confined flat and built up with the lack of circulation. She raised her hand to conceal her mouth, coughing and spluttering bluntly as she tried to adapt to the unpleasant, potent scent. She couldn't disperse her lungs of the polluted toxins she had inhaled - not yet; not for a while - as the air in the community sections of the building were tainted with cigarette smoke. Connie's stomach was churning dramatically; she wanted to retch. She wasn't a big lover of booze, especially cheap and nasty brands, and the sheer amount. An odd glass of sweet rosé wine was all she really liked.

Connie compelled herself to tolerate the bitter stench, diverting her concentration back to her main concern; Rita. Cautiously, she stepped over the array of post that littered the floor, cognisant that if she wasn't vigilant, she could effortlessly slip in her stilettos. The pungent aroma continued to irritatingly tickle her nostrils, but she disregarded it like a professional.

She prepared herself for whatever she was going to have to transact with, doctor instincts becoming increasingly present as she approached the younger nurse subsequently to avoiding the hazardous obstacles. The former heart surgeon descended to Rita's level, kneeling on her knees and wrapping her hand around the blonde's skinny wrist with one hand and checking for a pulse with the other. Rita's wrist was chilly; icily cold. There was a decent pulse though which mutedly clarified that she was simply sleeping off the effects of all the alcohol she had ingested.

Mrs Beauchamp regained her equilibrium, rich orbs scanning the enclosed lounge come kitchen. It was a total mess. Evidently, Rita no longer seemed to care about anything. Her highest concern still remained with the infinite amount of empty alcohol bottles. One week. She was positive that the heavy drinking had only started since her husband had been bought into the ED for treatment. It appeared that the week Rita had been given off after her minor accident had been devoured drinking stupidly.

Originally, Connie had contemplated locating a notepad and pen to leave the sleeping nurse but soon dismissed that idea when she figured that the problem was too serious and it was unlikely the note would even be seen, simply used as a make shift coaster. Anyone who could polish off around three bottles of alcohol a day had a problem. Rita was on the borderline of tumbling into the category of an alcoholic.

Rita was beginning to rouse from the uncomfortable slumber she had fallen into, groaning discontentedly as she elevated her arms to allow her hands to bury her pounding head. A hangover. Again. Just like every other day this week.

Connie coughed to announce her presence, observing as the blonde jerked forward and sat up with a start, piercing wide eyes rotating around the room until they identified the intruder. Concluding that she didn't have the energy to care, she grasped her trembling fingers around the half full vodka bottle.

This was how Rita had wasted her week. Drinking until she was numb. Drinking until she passed out. She could no longer feel all the emotional and mental pain that burdened her, it was temporarily dissolved. She felt normal. Then when she woke - the numbing influence having disappeared and her problems returning in a whirlwind - she would start the whole process again and grab a bottle.

The tall brunette dashed over to the aspiring nurse and removed the crystal bottle from her clutch, "No, you are not having that." She stated and paced to the sink where she poured the colourless liquid down the drain.

Rita had leapt off the sofa, hot in pursuit of Connie or rather the vodka, "What did you do that for?" She hissed hostilely and padded to the fridge to replace the liquid that had just been wasted.

Connie pushed the fridge door shut, "No more alcohol, Rita." Her tone was laced with authority, "Have this instead." She gestured towards the glass of fresh water and paracetamol she had prepared on the side, "I think you'll find that a more appropriate cure for your hangover instead of drinking more."

"I don't want that!" The blonde snapped as she swiped the glass and tablets off the side, sending them plummeting to the ground where the water spilled everywhere and the glass shattered, "What are you even doing here? I didn't let you in, you're trespassing." Her manner wasn't becoming any friendlier, in fact it was deteriorating. Aggression growing.

The clinical lead was accustomed to dealing with uncooperative and argumentative patients, taking the attitude with a pinch of salt, "I came to see if you were okay."

"I'm fine." She snarled, "Absolutely fine. So now you've seen that you can go."

"You are not fine. I can clearly see that." Connie raised her voice marginally, reinforcing the assertion. She took no prisoners. "You didn't turn up for your shift today, you wouldn't answer your phone, and you have a problem with alcohol."

"I do not have a problem with alcohol!" The blonde shouted, slamming her fist into the fridge in pure frustration, "It's Thursday, why would I come into work when my shift isn't until Friday? I lost my phone."

Dr Beauchamp tightly grasped Rita's wrists to restrain her from causing anymore damage, to herself or anything else, "Calm down." She instructed, "And Rita, it's Friday."

"Shit," Rita murmured, dipping her head as she realised she was unable to escape the trouble she was now in for failing to turn up for work, "Let me get changed and grab my stuff and I'll be in." She shuffled free from Connie's grasp and began gathering things into her bag.

"No. You are in no fit state to work. I cannot have you as a member of staff on my department. You are a risk to yourself and to everyone around you currently." She stated, slurred with her harsh power and rule as clinical lead. "You clearly need some time to think about what you actually want. Do you want the alcohol to destroy your career? Destroy your life? When you've decided, and if you still want a job on my ED, then I'll see you at work tomorrow."

For the first time since Connie's arrival, Rita was speechless. The blonde had nothing to say. She just slumped back onto the sofa, pulling the blanket over her and quietly watching helplessly as her boss tipped all the alcohol in her flat down the sink.


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: **Sorry this is quite a short update but I didn't know what else to include. Thanks for reading and reviewing and I hope you like this part. :)_

_~Mini Peacelet~_

* * *

Part 7

Rita was exhausted; a familiar sentiment that harassed her with reprisal. She was perched in the dark corner of the vacant staffroom, accompanied with a semi-full bottle of cheap vodka. Vodka she had confiscated from a patient earlier on in her shift, promising to keep it safe until he was discharged. Her internal scuffle to resist the temptation to drink whilst at work had been lost.

The nurse had arrived for her stint on duty - on time for the first time since the drama revolving her husband. She was there in person but definitely a little worse for wear. _A lot worse for wear._ Tired. Hungover. She hadn't even made any attempt to conceal the evidence that Connie would be prying for. She didn't care. She was beyond caring.

Her initial intentions had been to stay out of the spotlight in desire to keep out of trouble; sort of fade in with the public. If she kept her head down and nose clean, just getting on with her job, then she wouldn't attract herself unwanted attention from her colleagues. Avoiding Miss Beauchamp - and Tess for that matter - had originally been a priority.

The blonde had succeeded with that until an alleged assault victim had been bought in. She had treated her, generated that nurse-patient bond. A source of confidentiality. She had obtained that trust, or at least she thought she had. The female had then confessed to having lied about the whole ordeal. After Rita had put her time and resources into the entire situation. She'd lost it completely with that patient, totally unprofessional. It was too close to home. And she had captured Connie's attention in a negative way.

It was then she had dashed into the thankfully empty staffroom, grasping the alcohol bottle on the way. She craved the influences of the bitterly burning beverage. Everything was too much. She needed the numbing effects acutely.

Rita's trembling fingers fumbled with the lid until she managed to remove it, clumsily dropping it to the floor. She elevated the glass bottle to her dry lips and ingested a lengthy swig repeatedly.

"Rita," The woman's tone was cutting through the muted ambience, evidently appalled and angry at her latest discovery.

The aspiring nurse tilted her head up sharply upon perceiving the voice. Connie. She temporarily froze, thoughts whizzing through her cluttered mind. _Shit_. Her reaction had been too delayed, the poised brunette had already spotted the vodka bottle that she had just hidden under a padded chair.

The clinical lead paced the short distance across the staffroom with assertion, a harsh expression of frustration refining her features. She was trying her best to help Rita, but there was only so much she could do. Freeman had to at least try to help herself.

Stumbling to her feet in a shoddy attempt to cover the alcohol, the blonde faltered over a rambled sentence, fear suppressing her forlorn face, "It-It's not what it looks like!"

"Isn't it?" Connie's manner was raised, clearly enraged with an authoritative edge as she stooped down and clutched the vodka bottle, "Drinking at work is completely against the regulations! It is a sackable offence, and I will not tolerate it in my department. How many times, Rita? How many times do I have to tell you that you cannot mix work with your personal life?"

"Don't sack me. Please, don't sack me." Her voice was small; feeble. She was desperate. Pleading. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I've never done anything like this before - drinking at work. I'd never, I wouldn't. Please, it won't happen again-"

"Like you wouldn't let your personal problems interfere with work again?" The former heart surgeon raked her fingers through her softly curled locks, contemplating the most effective action. Her thick and blunt exterior was potent, currently unable to sympathise to the self-inflicting nurse, "I'm sorry Rita, you were a valuable member of staff but now I really don't know. You should be instantly dismissed for your behaviour lately."

"Please, Dr Beauchamp. This place is all I have. I'm sorry, really sorry. It won't happen again, I promise. Just give me one last chance, I won't let you down." Rita begged, closely on the verge of tears. The glossy film that had formed over her pupils glistened.

"I shouldn't even be having this conversation with you now. You've been drinking, go home. You are a risk to my department and patients at the moment. We'll discuss this in my office first thing tomorrow when you are completely sober."

Rita hovered over her words momentarily, "Am I going to lose my job?"

"Go home, Rita. Go home." Connie instructed sternly until the blonde accepted the message and left after mumbling another sincere apology. Exhaling a sigh, she strode to the sink and deposited the contents of the bottle down the drain before binning the evidence.


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N: **Really sorry for the lack of updates, and thank you to those who read and reviewed. This is the longest update I've written in months so I hope you like it and that it maybe makes up for my hopeless updating xD_

_~Mini Peacelet~_

* * *

Part 8

Fresh and early. Early morning, she was enduring a brisk yet exhausted pace to the hospital where she would discover the status of her much needed job. She had intended and coveted to amble lethargically but the frosty wind blustered bitterly around was hostile and forced her to quicken her speed in order to obtain cover and protection for warmth. Again, she wasn't dressed in appropriate weather attire.

The physical elements were all that added a crisp and fresh hint to Rita though; she still reeked over cheap alcohol and was visibly weary. Last night, she had taken a detour home via the off-liscence and purchased more booze to sooth and numb her cluttered thoughts and worries. Fearful for the reprimands and punishments she deserved. As an expected result, she was hungover.

Having overslept minimally, the blonde had dashed frantically to catch up on time so she wouldn't be late for her appointment with Miss Beauchamp. She didn't have time to shower - the detail that her hot water had also ran out just ended that prospect completely. The nurse was spending - too much - cash on drink. Alcohol was prioritising over everything. Food, electric, rent, bills. Everything. Improvising, she had sprayed herself with choking quantity of perfume but failed to mask the aroma. No amount of foundation would hide the dark circles that spiralled her dull eyes, but she had tried.

Connie was shut away in her office, perched on her swivel chair and swallowing the final mouthful of her third coffee that morning already. She had elected to arrive early, before she was due on shift, and claimed to her on duty staff that she had paperwork to complete. She did have paperwork outstanding, but that wasn't her real reason for entering early.

Standing from her seat, she stepped over to her coffee machine and stationed her cup beneath before pressing the button to generate another cappuccino. This much caffeine wasn't healthy and she comprehended that but the desire for the boost was too fervent. The clinical lead was tired, a night of tossing and turning consisted of insufficient sleep. She was concerned about Rita and had wasted ages reflecting over the actions she was going to enforce. She was still pondering over her final decision.

A knock at the door and hasty glance at her watch had lead the brunette back to her chair, cappuccino clasped in her dainty hands, "Come in," The authority and poise was stable in her tone, professional character present.

There was a paused moment before the door feebly opened and Rita stepped into the confined office. "Miss Beauchamp, I'm really, really sorry about yesterday-" she began to apologise repeatedly for her obtuse behaviour, a desperate implore in her manner.

"Sit down Nurse Freeman." Connie instructed coolly, raising the steamy mug to her lips and engulfing a petite sip as she observed the trembling blonde perch on the seat opposite herself.

"I am truly sorry, please just give me another chance. It won't happen again, I promise." She was restless, fidgeting erratically. It irritated her how calm and composed Connie was as she was so on edge. All she wanted to know was whether she still had a career or not. The suspense was torture.

The former heart surgeon placed the cappuccino on her desk, basking the muted atmosphere momentarily, "Rita," she addressed the younger female in front of her, "No amount of apologising can change your actions, so therefore you must take responsibility for your behaviour and the consequences that follow."

Rita nodded, apprehending the fact although it didn't make it any easier, "I understand that. Please just put me out of my misery, do I still have a job?"

Connie exhaled a long sigh, "As your boss, I cannot ignore the fact that you were caught consuming alcohol on hospital premises, so I have no other option but to suspend you. I think it will do you some good to have some time to get your head straight, focus on what you really want. You need to deal with your alcohol problem before it get's too severe."

The nurse dipped her head. It wasn't the outcome she had been wanting despite the detail that it could have been worse, "Please, can we not just forget that it ever happened? I know the seriousness of it and I've learnt my lesson."

"No." The brunette really imprinted her assertiveness sharply, "I was going to consider dismissing the situation, but considering that you have turned up this morning stinking of alcohol I don't have any other choice...Now as your boss and as your friend, are you okay? Really, Rita, I want the truth."

"Fine! I'm absolutely fine! Now that I've been suspended from work, lost virtually everything positive I have. I couldn't be better." A sudden burst of anger had refined the forlorn woman, giving her negative confidence; malicious.

"You are not fine, I can clearly see that." Connie stated sincerely before softening her tone marginally, "What's going on Rita? It can't be that bad. You can talk to me." She encouraged gently.

"How can you say that it can't be that bad? You have no idea. No idea. My husband is a convicted sex offender." Her voice trailed off, becoming increasingly weak until tears prickled the corners of her cornflower-blue orbs that have lost their vibrant hue, forming a glassy film until a perfectly formed teardrop surfaced with many more following and rolling down her unblemished cheeks.

The older, sophisticated woman didn't have much experience with consoling blubbering and broken people - which was precisely what Rita was - never really mastering the required compassion, "But that's him, not you. You are an entirely different person."

"It doesn't make any difference!" The blonde hissed through the potent, erratic sobs and blurred vision due to the sheer volume of tears that she was incapable of stopping currently, "I stood in that court room and defended him, blamed that innocent, thirteen-year old for everything. What sort of person does that?!"

"You weren't to know, he lied to you."

"That's no excuse. No excuse at all." She buried her face in her hands, forcing herself to regain some composure and to get herself together; she was only making a fool out of herself.

Connie rose to her feet, hesitantly approaching her colleague and placing a tentative hand on her back, rubbing gradual, soothing circles, "Take some deep breaths," she slowed her own breathing for Rita to match, "How have you coped up to now though? I'm almost certain that alcohol hasn't always been the answer." She was curious, needing to know more details so she was able to help.

"The only way I got through was because I lied to myself and everyone around me. I was in denial. I told myself that he was locked away in a box-sized room, out of sight, out of mind. It didn't work for long though." Rita folded her arms, for reasons she wasn't totally sure of; it offered some sort of muted comfort and generated a defence barrier. Her words were just a murmur, she hadn't the strength for anything more.

"Then we need to find a more effective and appropriate way to help you." The clinical lead was starting to sympathise to Rita's situation and how difficult she was finding it, "What about talking to someone? We can organise it here, at the hospital." She suggested cautiously.

"No." The nurse's response was instant and cutting, "I've spoken to counsellors, been through all that crap. It doesn't work. It's just a waste of time." She muttered with a lack of zealous.

"Okay, well don't take this the wrong way and withhold your respect, you are in no fit state to work at the moment and until you sort yourself out I can't have you on my ED. I think you would really benefit from taking a break, just to get away from everything for a while. A holiday perhaps." Connie proposed tactfully.

Rita rolled her eyes in frustration, "A holiday? Holidays are no fun when you have no one to go with." She snapped.

"What about friends?"

"Friends?" She scoffed, "I have no friends. Everyone that I've been able to call a friend has just left me and treated me like dirt as soon as they found out what a dirty, disgusting man I am married to and even more so when they learn I gave evidence to defend him. And U can't say I blame them." She huffed.

"You have me, I'm your friend. And I'll be here no matter what." The brunette stationed her hand on the blonde's knee firmly - reassuringly.

"Like I'm going to believe that! You don't care about anyone!" Rita hissed spitefully, removing Connie's hand from touching her, "But you're right, I do have one friend; alcohol. That's never turned it's back on me and never let me down."


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: **Here's the next instalment, I hope you like it. Thanks for the reviews. :) This chapter is based loosely round the blonde who was bought into the ED in last weeks episode, I can't remember if she had a name though so I've made one up._

_~Mini Peacelet~_

* * *

Part 9

_"But you're right, I do have one friend; alcohol. That's never turned it's back on me and never let me down."_

Connie pursed her lipsticked lips together subsequently to that response, momentarily contemplating how she was going to successfully make Rita realise that if things didn't change alcohol was going to destroy her life. But the blonde had to be the one to apply the alterations. No one else could. "Come with me." She instructed as she regained her equilibrium and poise, straightening her stethoscope that draped professionally around her neck.

Reluctantly, the nurse rose to her feet, fingers trailing the glass of water that had been placed in front of her. She was currently in no mood to cooperate, desiring to go home and sooth the urge for drink. She coveted her worries to be dissolved and the relentless pain to be numbed. And that wasn't going to happen whilst she was in her boss's company.

Rita followed the older female, perplexed to where they were going yet curious. She dipped her head to avoid the bitter gazes of her fellow colleagues who just stared at her with disgust; she knew exactly what they were thinking.

Miss Beauchamp's heels clicked piercingly as they collided with the cheap linoleum surface - it was a sound of authority that she loved. However, the suspended nurse didn't, she shuddered with every step. "Where are we going?" She inquired, hands shoved in the pocket of her dark-green, oversized hoodie.

"You'll see." The former heart surgeon replied as she opened one of the swinging doors and entered resus, pacing towards the bed that was surrounded by white panels that were used as portable barriers. "This is Shannon Dales." She gestured to the limp body that was covered with a thin white blanket, only leaving her head exposed.

The blonde glanced at the female, still remaining mystified, "I don't get it? I didn't know this female anyway, I never treated her or anything." She prodded for a more detailed explanation, tone rather bitter and hostile at her quest for drink being delayed.

The lifeless female's skin was ghostly pale yet with a horrible, prominent yellow tinge, dark circles enhancing her closed eyes in an unappealing way. Connie didn't respond instantly, basking the muted aura as she allowed Rita to ponder for a few minutes. She wasn't zealous about the method she was resorting to but perhaps a harsh reality would be the wake up call thar Rita Freeman needed. There was nothing nice or positive about staring at a dead body and she was angered that her ED had been unable to save this young woman.

"She was bought in this morning, unconscious. She was paralytically intoxicated, consuming so much alcohol until she passed out. Shannon was a known alcoholic who declined help. Her body went into shock; the alcohol finally poisoned her blood." The sophisticated clinical lead clasped the electronic tablet from the side, opening an image of the dead patient's liver, "Her liver is more than three times the size I'd expect to be healthy of a woman of her age. It stopped working because of the persistent amount of alcohol she drank continuously." She stopped articulating and allowed Rita to process everything, observing her in silence.

Rita was frozen temporarily; paralysed. Her eyes rarely blinked, gazing aimlessly at the alcoholic in front of her. She was in deep thought, really deep. Had Connie hit a nerve? Was this a proper wake up call? Jumbled thoughts just cluttered her pounding head. It was difficult to concentrate and think.

"Is this how you want to end up, Rita? Because if you don't stop drinking, this could be you. You've been offered help, it's up to you if you choose to accept it or not. Somebody would have loved and cherished this young adult, how must they be feeling right now? Despite what you may think, there are people out there who love and care about you. You wouldn't want them to be receiving the same phone call this person's next of kin is? People would miss you." She hoped that the thought provoking and rhetorical questions would make the nurse think properly about everything and conclude the next series of actions.

A single, perfectly formed teardrop surfaced from the corner of the blonde's eye, rolling down her curved cheek.

Connie extended her right arm, positioning it around the back of Rita's shoulder so she was able to turn her away from the corpse and guide her back to the safety of her confined office. They had spent long enough examining from a distance and she didn't want to delay her staff who were in the process of covering and concealing the body ready to move it downstairs.

She requested that Rita sat down before her legs buckled beneath her. The younger female reached for the glass of water she had abandoned earlier, grasping her trembling fingers around the cup. She managed to ingest a sip before the glass slipped from her fingers, tumbling to the floor. "Sorry," she muttered with a sigh. The mental craving for alcohol had faded completely yet her body's requirements differed.

"Don't worry about it," Miss Beauchamp dropped some tissues onto the carpet and picked the cup up; luckily it was plastic so didn't break. She had already considered that a glass one could have posed a danger should Rita have become angered. "See, that's another reason you should stop drinking. Your hands are incredibly shaky, that would prove an issue when you try to progress in your career." She was mindful that it was probably a combination of shock as well.

"You can go home now, I think you have a lot to consider and think about. I will see you in two weeks if you still want your job that is, that will be when your suspension is completed. Remember, I'm always here if you want to talk or wish to look into the help I offered earlier."

Rita simply nodded and heaved herself to her feet. Right now she just wanted to be alone. "Thanks," she murmured, dipping her head and ambling towards the door and out of the hospital for the journey home.


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: **Thank you to those who left a review and to anyone who read the last update :) here's the next update, I hope you like it! X_

_~Mini Peacelet~_

* * *

Part 10

Raising her arm cautiously, rotating her head to glance behind her piercingly, cornflower-blue orbs peeled to learn if any prying eyes were watching her presence, she tapped lightly on Miss Beauchamp's office door.

"Come in." The clinical lead's usual, authoritative tone authorised the person's entrance, still strict and emotionless. She didn't bother tilting her head up instantly, figuring that whatever it was evidently wasn't urgent; nobody knocked if she was required for an emergency, they dimply barged in in a fluster. She lifted her head when she heard the door click for the second time, informing her that the door was now closed with her visitor at the correct side of the entry barrier.

"Rita?"

The brunette's brow puckered with perplexity as she identified the woman who had just entered her confined office. She could have hesitated several speculations about who was interrupting her, but nurse Freeman wasn't on that list. She was suspended, therefore technically shouldn't have been present. Learning who now desired her precious attention, she softened her stare from the acrimonious one prior. She had previously been hassled by various members of staff for pointless things, resulting in a frustrated and perhaps foul mood due to her being unable to complete her mountain of paperwork.

"You shouldn't really be here, you are suspended."

"I know." The nurse fiddled with the cuff on the sleeve off her oversized jumper, tugging at a loose thread that had conveniently become interesting and a trivial excuse for her to avoid engaging eye contact with Connie. She could still feel her boss's gaze burning with curiosity upon her.

They both basked the muted ambiance momentarily, Connie coveting for Rita to enlighten her with an explanation as to why she was here. Evidently there was a reason. It was a comfortable and placid aura hovering densely. The former heart surgeon consumed the silence productively, studying the blonde who was better presented in herself and the stench of cheap alcohol had disappeared - or very well masked. She wasn't sure.

Rita faltered over her words repeatedly. It was vastly strenuous to confess that she needed help. She had to grant for her pride to be dissolved, her self-contained barrier had to fade. She had to actually let someone in. "You're right...I-I do need help." She murmured feebly.

Connie nodded, the first step was always the hardest and she was proud that the blonde had mustered the courage, "Okay, well I'll make some phone calls and arrange for you to speak with a therapist."

Shaking her head swiftly, her response rapid and faintly panicked, "No! No. I don't want to talk to some stranger. Can't I talk to you instead?"

"Well yes, of course, if that's what you would rather," Connie clicked the lid back on her expensive fountain pen, depositing on the desk, "Just the majority of people prefer to talk to someone that they don't know - some say it's easier. But if you want to talk to me, then that's fine too. Although we will have to schedule it."

The blonde nodded, satisfied, "Okay, thank you." She paused again fleetingly, pondering how to compose her next sentence correctly; a sentence she was discovering to be quite awkward to phrase. "There's something else I came to ask you. Can I take you out for dinner tonight? If you're not busy obviously." _Pull yourself together Rita! It sounds like you are asking her on a date._ "Just to say thank you for everything, you've made me realise that I need to address my problems and accept help, I'm not asking you on a date or anything like that." She added, rambling towards the end. Now she had made things really thorny and uneasy.

Twirling the white gold ring with a polished stone embedded - the colour of her birthstone - around her finger briefly, vaguely absorbing her attention for a split minute, she pursed her glossy lips together, "Thank you, Rita, but no thank you." She didn't want to seem rude or ungrateful, but to some degree, she felt that it wasn't strictly appropriate, "It's a kind gesture, and I appreciate it, but there is really no need. You don't need to waste your money on wining and dining myself." She stated sincerely. She had perceived for herself that the nurse's flat was only small, an indication that money was perhaps a little tight.

"There is need." Rita persisted, "I need to thank you - you practically saved my life! I could have died an alcoholic if you didn't give me the wake up call I so badly needed. Okay, so if you won't let me treat you to a meal, then can I cook a meal for you? That's cheaper." Originally, she had been going to propose taking Connie for a casual drink. Only she deciphered that that wasn't exactly suitable. She was now supposed to be avoiding alcohol and a thank you drink was no exception.

Exhaling a modest sigh, the brunette responded, "okay," It was the only thing she could say. Rita had left her with no other option but to agree to her offer. She would have felt horrible and guilty otherwise. It was only dinner, there was nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing. "The earliest I'll be able to make it is seven though, is that okay?"

The nurse nodded, "Yeah, that's fine. I'll see you later. Thanks again." For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, a genuine positive curve formed on her lips. A real smile.


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N: **Thanks again for reading and reviewing. I hope you enjoy this instalment. :)_

_~Mini Peacelet~_

* * *

Part 11

Quarter to seven. Rita had approximately fifteen minutes before Connie arrived for dinner, although she was almost certain that it would be more like twelve minutes; Miss Beauchamp was always early, punctual.

Since arriving back at her one bedroomed council flat, the nurse had slaved away at preparing - or more along the lines of trying to - a decent meal for them both. It was a tricky challenge. She lacked the required skills in the kitchen to cook anything edible from scratch. But it was the attempt that counted right? She had also deposited of all the empty booze bottle and full ones so she wasn't tempted and had cleaned her entire flat ready for Connie's arrival.

At precisely six fifty-eight, the clinical lead tapped on the shabby door of Rita's flat, fleetingly glancing around her. It wasn't the best location, she didn't feel particularly safe now that dusk had engulfed the town, swallowing the remaining traces of natural light. She was apprehensive, still wrapped in a dilemma about whether she should really be standing where she currently was. Professionalism was something she was sharp about, this not really plummeting into that criteria.

Rita unlocked the door, "Hi Connie, come in. Can I get you a glass of non alcoholic wine?" She offered as she stepped into the small kitchen.

"Hello. Yes thanks." Connie nodded as she shut the door and shrugged her coat off her shoulders, hanging it on the back of a chair along with her handbag. She rapidly had to duck as the blonde popped the cork out of the bottle which flew with adrenaline into the air with a bang.

"Thank you for coming. I just wanted the opportunity to thank you properly for giving me the reality check I needed." Settled and recovered after the unexpected popping cork, Rita spoke, her pitch was quieter, confidence levels fading marginally as her fingertips trailed around the crystal wine glass.

Connie nodded subtly, "It's fine. The method I used was harsh, something I'm not zealous about doing, but in some situations there has to be exceptions. I'm just glad that it had the desired effect." She responded sincerely, raising her glass to her lips were she ingested a petite sip of the non-alcoholic wine. "But you know it's not going to be easy. I will help you in anyway I can providing you accept my help. You are going to have to resist the temptation for alcohol as your withdrawal symptoms become apparent." It would be a lengthy road full of ups and downs for sure.

"I know and I think I'm strong enough to overcome all this, start again." She didn't lift her head to look the older female in the eye. She physically couldn't.

"You think?" The brunette frowned, not feeling the sense of positivity that was essential, "You have to be one hundred percent positive if you are going to successfully stop drinking and get your life back on track." She sighed delicately.

"I am strong enough, I am." The nurse tapped her fingers repeatedly against the wooden table, mentally trying to convince herself.

"Good, that's what I want to hear."

Rita basked the muted ambience for a while, consuming the time productively to think and attempt to introduce some order into her jumbled thoughts whizzing rawly around her mind. "How do I learn to forgive myself for what I've done? For accusing that innocent school girl of being a liar, defending the man who I married who turned out to be a child molester. I lied to everyone I worked with, lied to myself."

"Time, with time. Unfortunately there isn't some secret potion or code that will magically fix anything. You're just going to have to give yourself time." Perhaps she had been too blunt, but the bitter truth was probably what Rita needed right now. "You need to face the truth yourself first. Your husband is an entirely different person to you, you have to remember that. You are not responsible for his actions and behaviour that he chose, he has to face the consequences. Stop giving yourself such a hard time."

The blonde nodded briefly, "I only told everyone he was dead because that's what he should be to me, he should be dead." She muttered through gritted teeth, "He's never going to sign those bloody divorce papers so I can properly move on with my life."

"I can't guarantee whether he will or he won't, but you must try and stay positive. Harder than it sounds, I know. But these are all little steps in you getting yourself together." Connie sympathised to how she was feeling despite being unable to personally relate, she could accurately guess though. It was visibly evident that Rita was starting to become fuelled with anger regarding the topic, electing to tactfully change the subject in hope to distract her to some extent, "I don't mean to be rude, but is dinner nearly cooked? I'm starving." Subsequently to smelling a faint burning aroma and searching for something else for Rita to focus on, dinner was the obvious choice.

"Shit!" Rita exclaimed, vaulting from her seat across to the oven as she remembered the curry that lay innocently - burning - cooking. Switching the cooker off and inserting her hands into oven mittens, she allowed the tainted smoke to pour from the confined oven as she removed the ceramic dish and dropped it on the counter. She dashed to the smoke alarm, collecting a magazine from the side on route and wafted it in front of the sensor in hope to detract the smoke.

To the best of her ability, she scraped away the majority of the burnt curry, plating what appeared to be the most appealing part of the dish accompanied with rice that acted as a concealment. "Sorry it's slightly burnt..I hope you like curry!" She apologised in advance as she placed the food on the table.

The meal didn't scrutinise that palatable yet she politely prodded the food momentarily before trying a mouthful. One mouthful was plenty enough. Her face flushed a deep shade of crimson that increased in boldness by the second, muttering expletives and she grabbed the glass of water and gulped down the cooling liquid to sooth her sizzling throat. She liked spicy things, but that generated a brand new definition for spicy.

A frown refined Rita's features as she perceived Connie's reactions, then tasting her creations herself and mirroring her boss's actions. She already comprehended that she was an awful cook, and that was definitely the last time she was cooking a meal from scratch she concluded. "I didn't realise it was that spicy, I'm so sorry."

"How much curry powder did you put in it?" The former heart surgeon spluttered, she'd downed the glass of non-alcoholic wine as well to relieve the fiery sensation.

"Three tablespoons." The blonde shrugged as she clasped the recipe and passed it to Connie, "It said two, but I added an extra one anyway just to make sure it had flavour."

Connie scanned the piece of crumpled paper, splashed with various foods, "Two teaspoons. Teaspoons not tablespoons." She shook her head.

"Oh. Oopsie." The nurse couldn't restrict her laughter at her stupid mistake, "I never could cook anyway so I guess this just confirms it." She chewed her bottom lip innocently, topping the glasses with more fresh water.

The brunette stifled a short laugh at the important error. She observed pleasantly at how a trivial distraction had absorbed Rita's concentration and attention, allowing her to forget everything temporarily. A mask.

"There was another reason I asked you round for dinner tonight...I have a question to ask you." She confessed quietly as she watched Connie's orbs bubble with curiosity. With a nod as an adequate reply, she elaborated on her first sentence, "I've been thinking. You said that you thought that a holiday would do we good, just to get away from everything. And you said to go with a friend. Well will you come with me, you're the only friend I have, nobody else is talking to me."

Stunned, Connie didn't respond for a moment as she considered her reply. She didn't want to go but she didn't exactly have any other option due yo the detail she had suggested it initially. She was supposed to be trying to turn around a failing ED and in order to actually achieve that, her presence was required. She was torn. "I, um, I suppose so. Yes."


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N: **Thank you for reading and reviewing! Sorry for taking ages to update, I got stuck and wasn't sure which ideas to use but now I think I know what is going to happen in the next few updates at least! I hope you like this part. :)_

_~Mini Peacelet~_

* * *

Part 12

"What do you mean you don't know where we are?" Connie exhaled an exasperated sigh, hands compressed tightly around the leather steering wheel as she shot a hasty glare at the blonde in the passenger seat before focusing her gaze back on the road.

Rita shrugged innocently, an expression of pure concentration plastered across her unblemished contours as she flicked between trying to locate their position of the map and searching for signs that would help her trace the exact point, "Well, I don't. I think we might have taken a wrong turning somewhere or something."

"So what you are saying is that we are lost?" The clinical lead lacked enthusiasm for silly, immature games, definitely not in the mood. She had allocated Rita the simple task of instructing her directions. It was not a reassuring feeling to learn that the nurse couldn't even detect their whereabouts considering she should have been following and in correspondence with every turning.

"I wouldn't say lost, just temporarily misjudged our bearings." The blonde corrected prudently before her clenched fist contacted forcefully with the paper map in shear frustration at the entire situation. The main purpose of this holiday was so she could relax and get her head straight, and so far it was just generating stress and tension.

They had concluded to travel to London for five days. Five days was a long time to Connie since she was practically abandoning her disordered and troubled department. It wasn't professional. She was risking a lot with her brief yet abrupt announcement of a holiday. Opened the door for gossip and assumptions.

Connie snatched the map from Rita's petite hands, observing as the younger female sunk further into the material seat, huffing and folding her arms tightly across her chest. "No wonder you are not having much success navigating, you were reading the map upside down!"

Rita's cheek flushed a rich shade of crimson, embarrassed at her fatuous error. She may have been a moderately - whilst sober - decent nurse, but basic life skills and techniques such as map reading left a lot to be desired. "Oops...I wanted to use the navigation app on my phone, it was you that insisted on using a map instead." She retorted defensively.

"As I said earlier, these high tech gadgets cannot be relied on! The one - and only - time I've used a satnav it took me round Sheffield three times!"

"You can't rely on my map reading capabilities either." The blonde muttered.

With her expertise and knowledge, the former heart surgeon pinpointed their location, "We're here." She pointed to the atlas, "The motorways here - not that far away. I should more or less know where I am when we get onto the motorway." She stated as she passed the map back to the blonde and started driving again, releasing her foot from the clutch and pressing the accelerator. The ambitious nurse was useless at geography, Connie comprehended that Rita should have drove whilst she directed. Although that was the initial reason Rita was on map reading; she too lacked with her geography.

London seemed like the most logical destination. Being in the countryside didn't interest the brunette, although it would probably have been more ideal for Rita so there wasn't a bar or pub serving alcohol within walking distance for the temptation would be removed. The capital offered a variety of things; the hotel they had booked had a spa, shops were within walking range, famous attractions, and if they were really bored, there was always the option to go watch a west end show.

* * *

"What do you mean there isn't any vacant rooms?!" Connie's frustration was escalating, bottling inside her tiny frame. Containing the anger was a challenge on its own. She thumped her clenched fist against the wooden desk at reception, raking her fingers through her thick, untamed locks. They had made reservations. Booked two double rooms in advance, to be precise. Yet the hotel only had record of one.

"I'm sorry Madam, but we are fully booked. You are unable to have another room. You will have to make do with the one you booked in advance." The receptionist was sincere, lacking sympathy for the mistake that had been made by someone. She wasn't paid enough to deal with members of the public's dissatisfaction.

The brunette sighed irritably, "Well is there anyway that our double bed can be separated into twin beds so it is a twin room?" She requested, a compromise.

The middle-aged woman shook her head, "No, sorry." She then placed the key to their one room on the desk, adding directions of where to go to their room.

Connie grasped the key in her sharp claws with a displeased attitude, her other hand clutching the handle of her small suitcase that she towed behind her. In contrast to Rita, who held a bag in her hand, the clinical lead was impotent of packing light. It was late, locating another hotel with their requirements wasn't really a possibility - besides they had paid to stay here. Heavy traffic in London had delayed their arrival, they had chosen to stop at motorway services for dinner.

Upon arriving at in the double room that they had to share, Connie announced she was going for a bath and collected some items from her case and departed into en suite bathroom. She needed time - alone - to think properly. Compose herself. And to most importantly calm down and become acquainted with the prospect of sharing a room with her colleague. Her anger would reflect on the blonde, and negativity was not what this break was about. It _wasn't_ a big deal; definitely _not_.

Whilst the older female was absent, the aspiring nurse changed into her pyjamas and curled up on the plush sofa with the decorative blanket off the bed. She was armed with a book. Reading was now some sort of distraction for spells when she was alone and bored.

Subsequently to a relaxing soak, submerged in an ocean of foamy bubbles, the former heart surgeon was finally poised and tranquil again. It had been a long day. A really long day. With many mishaps.

She had coveted for ages to just climb into a luxurious bed, sprawl out and sleep. Tomorrow was another day. But there was bound to be a few more trivial complications before that happened. It wasn't that she was uncomfortable about sharing with Rita. She was more uncomfortable with her night time attire. She had selected not to bring pyjamas, instead opting for a negligee that was too revealing for her comfort. Flesh that she didn't want to expose would be on show.

She mastered a confident posture and walk, after all, she was the ice queen who could conceal any falters and emotions if she wanted to. The brunette padded across the room and clambered gracefully into bed, rich orbs settling on the blonde in the corner engulfed in her book.

Rita acknowledged her and deposited her book on the couch,regaining her equilibrium and disappearing into the bathroom. Her boss was hot and attractive; _sexy_. No. She forced herself to wipe those thoughts from her mind. It just purely wouldn't work. Her thoughts chipped away at her, reminding her that Connie had/was helping her and treated her better than anyone else ever had. Any of her boyfriends. And especially her husband. She wondered leisurely back out the bathroom and regained her previous position on the sofa, under the blanket.

A perplexed frown refined Connie's serene features, "Rita, don't be silly. We are both mature and sensible adults so therefore can sleep in the same bed. That blanket it hardly going to provide much warmth anyway, and you'll only end up aching in the morning."

The blonde was hesitant, "Are you sure?" She inquired quietly, eyes glancing over at the other woman but unable to make eye contact. She wanted to gaze anywhere but directly at Connie to avoid provokes.

The clinical lead nodded, "I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't. If anyone is sleeping on that sofa then it should be me." She loathed the idea of that though, "This is your holiday and time away."

"I don't want you to sleep on the couch either." She reluctantly picked herself from the sofa and walked over to the bed, pulling the covers back and climbing in. Connie was correct, the bed was a lot comfier than the couch. But it was all she could do in her power to stop her eyes wondering.


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N: **Thank you for he reviews! Hope you like this part :)_

_~Mini Peacelet~_

* * *

Part 13

"Rita, your feet are so - soooo - cold." Connie muttered, pearly-white teeth clenched together compactly. This was the third time the blonde's frosty feet had contacted with her warm yet exposed legs. And it was the third time she had jarred at the initial shock of the temperature variation.

The nurse pouted, "Sorry...but it's not exactly my fault." Her tone was defensive but correspondingly placid, ready and prepared with tactful retort.

"If it's not your fault, then who's fault is it? Because they are your feet." The former heart surgeon puckered her brow.

"Well, you are the one who stole the duvet so my feet were poking out the end, so therefore it is not my fault." She grinned and poked her tongue out cheekily, neatly filed nails grasping the covers and tugging them so she had her equal share.

The brunette's rich hazel orbs orbited melodramatically. She should have comprehended that that response was coming. It was so blandly obvious. Of course it would be her fault, not Rita's. "We are so buying you some fluffy socks when we are out shopping today." She stated bluntly. It wasn't up for discussion.

"Fine," Rita murmured, "But they have to have a pokka dots, and we'll have to get two pairs because I never wear matching socks." She compromised, stealing a glimpse at the clock and groaning, "It's only half past 7, it's too early to get up when I'm supposed to be on holiday."

* * *

Alone. Rita was unaccompanied, although it had only been for a matter of minutes. The clinical lead was pressed to answer a work related phone call - secretly anxiously coveting to learn whether her precious ED was coping in her absence - leaving the blonde to obtain their next round of alcohol free drinks.

She was in the process of that when she had captured view of a male that was the spitting image of her husband. An exact duplicate. Froze to the position where she currently stood, temporarily paralysed, her heart rate soared briskly. Her mood plummeted harshly. Fear and terror saturated her veins. Negative hallucinations recurred pugnaciously, haunting tormentingly with reprisal.

Liberating herself from the point she had unintentionally halted, she dashed to the bar and ordered a large vodka. Vodka was colourless and scentless; classifiable as water. She could handle it straight, simple. Vodka solved problems. Or at least concealed it skilfully. Trembling fingers fumbled in her purse to assemble the required amount of change, depositing coins to a rounded number on the bar top and scurrying with her drink. They could keep the change.

By the time Connie returned, the nurse had polished off half of her drink - a drink she presumed to be water originally until closer inspection. Rita had necked continuous mouthfuls, the foul liquid burning her throat was surprisingly pleasant. The desired numbing effect was already working wonders. She couldn't remember a single thing about him, in fact she couldn't recall anything. Her behaviour had transformed abruptly; she was uncoordinated, giggly, and slurred speech.

"Connieee!" Rita was merrily grinning, twirling a wisp of short, blonde hair around her fingers, head tilted to the side. Flirtatious. She extended her vacant arm, reaching for her beverage.

"Ah-ah," The brunette's reactions were quicker, grasping the tall glass as Rita's fingertips trailed the edge. She swallowed a petite sips, grimacing at the fiery sensation that seared the back of her throat, confirming her suspicions. An exasperated and disappointed sigh floated from her lips as she shook her head, "How many times, Rita? Why? Just why? Why did you go buy a glass of vodka as soon as I turn my back?!" She was impotent of constraining the anger sizzling in her tone, austere.

The solemnity didn't engage with her brain, chortling innocently. She hadn't been focusing at all, failing to listen to a word her boss had spoken. "Has anyone ever told you how incredibly sexy you are when you are angry?" She commented with a naughty and sassy glint. Her slurred words appeared to be rather understandable, voice loud and shameless as she attainted the attention of other people in the bar.

Connie's cheeks that were already flushing a tint of shallow red blazed a deeper shade that increased. Beetroot red. Embarrassed and humiliated. She was fuming. Rage laced her manner as she stepped closer to the younger female, her hand resting firmly on the nurse's cheek as she compelled her concentration, faces only centimetres apart, "Have you listened to a word I've said?" She hissed.

Her dazzling blue orbs were fixated on the former heart surgeon's lips. Fierce yet delicate lips coated in a rosy shade of lipstick. Redeeming herself from the trouble she had inflicted would have been the most logical response, but again she hadn't been listening. Connie's lips were piquant, begging to be kissed. Her hot, sultry breath suffocated the other woman's skin, choked by the foul fumes of booze. Tipsily, she planted her own lips on Connie's briefly - electric impulses darting sharply - before running the silky pad of her thumb over her company's lips. A drunk action.

She had taken the brunette by surprise, resulting in her becoming immobile momentarily as everything penetrated. Her lips tingled elusively, feelings rich. It took her a few minutes to assemble herself with composure, shaking off any emotions. "You are drunk." She stated candidly with fury, "And clearly not thinking straight." She pirouetted in her heels hastily, pacing to the bar to order a glass of water. She needed to sober Rita up, right now.


	14. Chapter 14

**_A/N: _**_Thank you for reviewing and reading! Sorry for taking ages to update, again. Hope you like this instalment._

_~Mini Peacelet~_

* * *

Part 14

Her head was dipped, fixated at starring at the table in the bar. She had let Connie down. She had let herself down too. Now she was sobering, she concluded that drinking hadn't been the best nor most sensible reaction. She could have dealt with the situation much better, and more efficiently. But instead she had made the wrong choice, selecting her most reliable friend. Alcohol. She may have been borderline wasted, but that fiery kiss wasn't something she intended to forget.

"So is this what you are going to repeatedly keep doing? As soon as I - or anyone else who deposits their time and effort into helping you - turn their back, you go and drink? I trusted you, Rita! And this is the way you repay my resources." Her varying pitch mirrored her accumulating frustration that was becoming more apparent.

"I'm sorry," The blonde murmured, fingertips trailing the circumference of the glass edge.

"Sorry? Is that all you have to say for your actions? After everything, Rita! Have you forgotten everything?! Is this what you are going to do when you are back at work, you fancy a drink so just disappear into the staffroom?" The former heart surgeon hissed, she would have been screeching, anger escalating, if it wasn't for the detail that they were still currently in public and she refused to generate a scene.

"It wasn't like that!" Rita had discovered and mustered some power and strength that reflected in her tone. Defensive. "I would never do that again! I've learnt my lesson, I want to keep my job. It's just..oh never mind, forget it, it's so stupid and pointless." She huffed. Connie would never believe her anyway, so there was no purpose to mentally rehearsing the truth to why she had suddenly drank.

"No, come on. Tell me. You should at least be trying to redeem yourself, anyway." She had dropped the blunt attitude in hope to convince Rita to elaborate upon her last statement. These minute glitches were the ones they really needed to focus on, exposing the prompts and then dealing with them.

The nurse exhaled a forlorn sigh, evading her boss's piercing gaze, "I saw a man that looked just like him, my husband." She confessed in a feeble whisper, "I know I could have dealt with it better, but it was the spur of the moment. I wasn't thinking straight."

"At least we now know what triggered your urge to drink, but we need to start finding some other strategies that can help you. Talking is one, you could have come back to me. It wasn't a private phone call, I couldn't hear clearly in such a busy atmosphere. It's about time you were at harmony with yourself, and learn to move on from the past. Accept that it has happened, there is nothing you can do about it."

Rita nodded, "I know."

"And just so we are clear on another thing - just because you are unbelievably intoxicated, it does not give you the right to go around kissing people." The brunette stated sincerely and swallowed a mouthful of the fresh liquid.

"Are you denying that you didn't enjoy that kiss?" Rita dismissed the brunette's question, lips pursed as she studied her boss. She knew. She just knew. It was so visibly obvious despite whether she continued to decline anything or not.

"I'm not saying anything."

The nurse puckered her eyebrow, perplexed. Was that the clinical lead's way of confessing without directly using prominent words? A faint smirk refined her flushed features as she brushed her blonde locks from her eyes and innocently fiddled with her glass.

"On that note, I think now is an appropriate time to call it a night and go to bed." Connie determined, manner composed and cool, then rising to her feet and regaining her balance on her ridiculous sized heels that were hardly practical, but she adored the sophisticated and classy appearance they added to her attire.

* * *

"Mud baths and face masks...really Connie?" Rita coiled her nose up disapprovingly, hesitance potent in her voice. She wasn't at all devoted to the prospect. The massage earlier had been fine and acceptable, but she wasn't so sure about this.

The brunette nodded zealously, "Yes. The mud is really beneficial for the skin, it works wonders." She specified matter of factly, "You'll thank me afterwards." Unknotting her robe provided by the hotel, she dropped it to the floor and stepped into the mud bath.

Rita copied her actions, entering the next mud bath and watched as the former heart surgeon positioned the slices of cucumber over her orbs. She had thought it was a peculiar snack.

The typical sound of an apple phone's ringtone reverberated the ambience subtly, Connie declined to abandon her precious mobile in her room for the day, or to switch it off. She was concerned incase of a crisis back at the ED that someone would need to enlighten her off, or perhaps they may require her extensive, expert knowledge. Truthfully, she didn't entirely trust Zoe, who she had left in charge during her absence. But she had compromised to lower the ringtone volume.

Removing her arm for the viscous mud, she wiped her hand free of the substance and answered her phone, raising it to her ear, "Hello, Mrs Beauchamp speaking." Rita observed her silently, studying as Connie's features altered; the corners of her lips started to descend into a negative curve. Her voice was stony and formal. The blonde attempted to decipher what was going on, however it was virtually impossible since she could only hear one end of the conversation that could be linked to an array of things.

The former heart surgeon deposited her phone on the side subsequently to ending the call, submerging further into the thick mud and exhaling a lengthy sigh. She pursed her lips together momentarily, immersed with her thoughts; a bitter trance.

"Is everything okay?" Rita broke the muted atmosphere that hovered over them densely, concerned that something serious had occurred. It was contrasting for her to remain hushed for so long - in fact it was rare.

The brunette jumped with a start, tumbling back into reality and knocking her valued phone into the mud bath as she jerked. She had forgotten that she had company, "My phone!" She groaned, hastily hunting for the iPhone in the treacle like mud.

Rita couldn't contain her giggles as she perceived Connie mutter expletives. Though she was conscious that she should most definitely have not been laughing. It _wasn't_ funny. The clinical lead was attached to her expensive phone. When she wasn't treating patients or completing paperwork, that phone was practically fused to her right hand at work.

"Great." Connie grumbled again with sarcasm. She'd had no success in locating her phone that probably wasn't even identifiable as that item now.

"Well at least there is one good thing," The nurse desired to lighten the aura and improve the older woman's mood, inclining forward slightly.

"What's that then?" She inquired with a sigh, trying her best not to take her cranky mood out on the nurse. It wasn't her fault. Well, technically it was but that was beside the point.

"You now have an excuse to replace your number, so therefore Charlie can take the opportunity to rename what he has you down as on his ancient phone." The blonde giggled to herself as she recalled the name, most of the ED were knowledgable of it and found it amusing. She just hoped now that Connie wasn't in a work mindset, she would too.

Connie narrowed her gaze with apprehension, "Do I even want to know what he has my caller ID as?" She racked her brain for possibilities, some more humbling than others.

She shrugged innocently, "Probably not."

"Tell me." She demanded. It wasn't a request, it was a statement, an instruction.

Rita gnawed her bottom lip anxiously, wondering if telling Mrs Beauchamp was actually such a good idea, "The Wicked Witch..."

Connie stifled a cackle, "Do you really think I believe that? He wouldn't, he'd be too worried incase I discovered it." She stated with her logic. She was labelled as the ice queen after all, and Charlie preferred to steer clear of trouble.

"It's true!" The younger female promised, her response instant, "I saw it with my very own eyes."

"Oh, it could have been worse I suppose." She shrugged futilely, "I dread to think what he has Zoe Hanna down as then." She quipped. Connie wasn't perturbed by the petty nicknames her staff generated and allocated for her. She was their boss, and preferred to stay a distance, not get involved.

"He wouldn't tell us...Anyway, who called you?" Rita endeavoured curiously.

She breathed out a sigh fuelled with a combination of fury and disappointment. She comprehended that she had to notify the blonde eventually, but she was feeling rather mortified and equally humiliated about the circumstances, "The principle of the boarding school my daughter attends in Dorset. She's been expelled."

Rita was surprised. She hadn't anticipated that response, she had honestly suspected that it was work related. She knew that Connie had a daughter - Grace - but she had never imagined the girl getting herself kicked out of school; she had automatically presumed that the clinical lead was strict and her daughter was well disciplined. "Oh..do you have to go collect her?"

"Yes." Connie nodded, "They requested I remove her from their building as soon as possible, which will be this evening."

The younger female nodded and fiddled with her fingers, "I'll get a train back to Holby tomorrow, don't worry about me." She figured that Connie wouldn't want her hanging around whilst she dealt with her misbehaving child, "I understand that your daughter takes priority."

"Don't be silly!" The brunette shook her head, "I don't have time to drop you back at Holby and make it to Dorset, but you can come with me. I'm not all that zealous about leaving you here alone after last night's antics anyway."


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/N: **Thanks for reading and reviewing! Hope you enjoy this part :3 I'm not sure how old Grace is actually supposed to be...but for the purpose of this story she shall be nine. xD_

_~Mini Peacelet~_

* * *

Harmony - Part 15

"Grace, what have you done now?" Connie immediately addressed her daughter upon entering the foyer outside the principle's office where the young girl was perched, kicking the legs of a chair vacantly.

The girl rolled her eyes jadedly, "Nothing. I didn't do anything, Mummy."

"Likely story." The brunette muttered beneath her breath and strutted towards the door of the headmaster's office, tapping on the pine wood and awaited a response or acknowledgment granting her permission to enter. She should have been accustomed to the conversation that was approaching, but it didn't make it any less humiliating.

"In the car. Now please, Grace." Connie's tone was callous and hostile, laced with austere and poise. She exhaled an exasperated sigh as her daughter purposely wandered unhurriedly and equally aimlessly, scuffing her shoes against the concrete surface.

Grace obliged instantly and accelerated her pace then corrected her direction. She comprehended how enraged and disillusioned her mother was, wisely choosing not to test her destiny any further. She opened the car door, climbed in and slammed the door shut behind her, delaying speaking until Connie was in the vehicle.

"Who's that?" Grace endeavoured abruptly with a curious manner as she narrowed her gaze and scrutinised the blonde in the passenger seat.

"Grace, don't be rude!" Connie refused to tolerate Grace speaking that way, and apologised on behalf of her, "And she's my friend."

"Friend?" The girl wasn't convinced, suspicious of the nurse, "You don't have any friends, Mummy." She stated matter-of-factly. It was true; Connie never had any friends, her attitude was disliked by most, and she preferred to distance herself from becoming involved with her colleagues. "You only ever bring home boyfriends."

The nine year old was pushing the former heart surgeon's patience. It was going to be one hell of a long journey back to Holby. "I'm telling you that she is my friend, Grace."

Grace puckered her brow, "You never bring friends home, or take them anywhere with you. You only do that with people you are going out with." She folded her arms stubbornly, definitely having acquire her mother's attitude.

"Hi Grace, I'm Rita." A cordial smile graced Rita's features, her general friendly nature present. She wasn't entirely sure what to expect from Connie's offspring, but she had promptly spotted the resemblance of mother and daughter. Grace had inherited Connie's wild and untamed, brunette hair and there were noticeable similarities in features. She had obtained the impression that the girl was rather unruly - she had just been expelled, again - and evidently was capable of misbehaving; that wasn't something she perceived in the clinical lead, but then she didn't know a single thing about what she was like when she was young.

"How old are you, Grace?" She attempted to create conversation with the child and change the subject that was rather awkward regarding Connie and herself's status.

"Nine." The mini Connie responded proudly.

"Wow! You're getting old!" Rita joked mildly - she had always been great with younger patients who were admitted to the ED - with a small laugh.

Grace giggled, "Mummy must be ancient then, she's forty-six!" Connie raised her eyebrow at her ages being revealed, she had always preferred to keep it a secret. Nobody at work knew. The blonde smirked to herself at the latest information she had learnt about her boss.

* * *

"You might as well stay tonight, it's late and Grace needs to go to bed." Connie's rich orbs flickered to the digital clock in her car reading twenty-three minutes past one in the morning before she twisted the key in the ignition, the vehicle's engine simmering down into silence.

Rita nodded, glancing at the sleeping child, "If you want to take Grace in and get her settled, I'll bring our bags in and make us both a hot drink." She suggested, only desiring to be helpful.

Subsequently to settling Grace, Connie padded back into the kitchen where Rita had just finished composing two mugs of her trademark hot cocoa, leant against the counter in her pyjamas after pouring it into matching cups. "Here you are. One Rita special." The younger female passed the brunette a mug, whipped cream spiralled high with mini marshmallows dotted and a sprinkle of chocolate powder. She had added flavoured syrups as well.

"Thank you." She was welcoming to the toasty beverage, "This looks _so_ unhealthy, though."

"It's hot chocolate - there is nothing healthy about it." She laughed faintly, "Are you okay?" The blonde inquired softly, hands cupped around a mug of steamy hot chocolate, inhaling the sweet scent. Connie looked weary, shattered. Some of her make-up had rubbed off, revealing faint dark circles around her eyes. It had been a long, tiring day.

The clinical lead nodded, raking her perfectly manicured fingers through her thick locks and then raised her cup of cocoa from the side, "Yes, I'm fine - thank you. It's just been a long day, and I need to decipher what I am going to do with Grace. Let's go to bed, you know I don't have a spare room but since we have shared these past two nights there shouldn't be a problem."

Rita followed the older woman into the master bedroom and climbed beneath the quality duvet after Connie, "Do you know why she got expelled?"

The brunette shrugged cluelessly, "They said it was because of persisting behavioural problems. That's what they've always said in the past - refusing to give any specific details. And of course, Grace won't tell me herself." She sighed frustratedly and swallowed a mouthful of the chocolatey beverage.

The nurse nodded intently, perched cross-legged on the comfy mattress facing Connie, "Are you going to enrol her into a local primary school in Holby?"

"No." Connie scoffed instantly, "No. I've done that before, she managed to get excluded from them too. I thought she would finally start to behave at boarding school, they would install some discipline into her - I guess I was wrong."

"Oh," She was starting to learn some background information to the situation, "Do you know what you're going to do?"

"I need to find a nanny for her first. She's good at scaring them away as well." The former heart surgeon stated, "That will be my priority tomorrow. Then I'm going to inquire into home education, that's the only choice I have left."

Rita nodded again, inquisitive into the real reasons for Grace's continual naughtiness that remained concealed. Although she knew better than to question Connie's parenting and methods.

"Do you have any hot chocolate left?" The older female questioned innocently, prying eyes peering into the blonde's mug that she clasped tightly after depositing her own mug on the bedside cabinet.

"Yeah," The nurse nodded, glancing down into her near full cup that contained the scorching liquid. She was contently savouring the warm smell and luscious flavour, "Why?" She tilted her head back up, locking eye contact with Connie dubiously.

Connie shrugged futilely, "I was just asking." She paused for a few moments, delaying her attack. She pounced unanticipatedly for the hot chocolate, resulting in Rita gasping as she clutched her mug and attempted to prevent any of the solution spilling as it splashed around the edges daringly. "Connie! What are you doing?!" Rita exclaimed.

"You make such a tasty hot chocolate, I want some more!" Her features were innocent, childlike. And she smiled sweetly, extending her arm to try and reach the mug that continued to move just out of her stretch repeatedly.

A frowned refined Rita's features, "But it's mine." She shielded her cup protectively, averse to surrendering her hot chocolate. She had wasted time observing the cream melt into froth and picking out the marshmallows.

The brunette pouted, "Ritaaaa."

"Connieee." She laughed and puckered her brow, "Anyway, I thought you found hot chocolate unhealthy? If it's _that_ unhealthy you wouldn't be wanting more..." A smirk danced onto her lips - she was determined to triumph this battle.

Connie grumbled morosely, "But it's delicious. What did you add to it?" She was interested into the flavourings so she could make her own. But perhaps it was safer her not knowing; those hot chocolates could easily become appetisingly addictive.

"It's a secret."

With a groan, she lunged for the beaker again, "Give me that damn hot chocolate." She growled impatiently.


End file.
